Wandering Child
by Cyra Bergen
Summary: Chap 3: Teaser: She took some photos out of her purse. “Purdy gave me these.” Bruce snatched them away. “John, look at this.” Bruce handed the photos to Johnny who stared at it, a long time. I thank everyone for their review.
1. Chapter 1

**Wandering Child**

"And do we not learn from the gospel of Luke" reverend Purdy continued his long soliloquy, "that we must embrace our lost sons and daughters? Did not the father whose son was presumed lost, death even, welcome his child home with open arms when he found his way home?"

Somewhere in the back of the Vera Smith Chapel someone started to snore softly. Purdy wisely chose to ignore this.

"John!" whispered Bruce while he nudged his friend in his side. Johnny opened his eyes, looked contrite around him and smiled apologetic to the grey haired lady sitting next to him. She gave him a disdainful glance and looked back at Purdy.

"Remind me again why we're here," he whispered in Bruce's ear.

"Because you couldn't say no to Purdy when he asked for, oh, I don't know, the ten thousandth time if you would attend one of his services. Something about it being good for the soul to see what your mother invested all her money in."

John nodded, "Ah, right."

"But between you and me" said Bruce "I'm not sure about the soul but it certainly did wonders for Purdy's wallet. Did you see the car he arrived in? Chauffeur and all!"

John looked at him. "And why did you come again."

"Because you asked me.'

"Right." His leg started to ache and he changed his position to alleviate the pain. It didn't work but a silver dollar he was keeping for JJ fell out his pocket. It rolled away over the floor. John tried to grab it but got another derisive glance from the grey haired lady, so he decided to leave it. Johnny sighed and looked at his watch. Purdy sure took his time. John absentmindedly rubbed his bad leg and let his mind wander. Occasionally he picked up something of Gene's speech. Something about not closing the door for your fellowmen. John thought about his mother. His religious mother who devoted her life, and lifesavings to this church, but couldn't find comfort there when she needed it most. Finally he heard Purdy say: "May we end this service with a part-song."

The community of the faithful rose and so did Bruce, and after some initial reluctance so did Johnny, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Do you know the words?" John whispered hopeful in Bruce's ear.

"It's your church."

The piano started to play and the pious unison started. Johnny listed, trying to remember this song from childhood. A pure, high voice caught his ear. A young woman with ash-blond hair, much like his own, stood a few benches behind him. She sang with her eyes closed. The people standing next to her stopped singing to listen to her beautiful soprano. Suddenly she opened her eyes and looked straight at John. She had one blue and one green eye and smiled at him, a sad smile.

Bruce and Johnny waited in the benches till most people had left the chapel. John had said to Bruce he didn't want to manoeuvre through the crowd of people, touching them, inducing visions. Bruce had nodded and looked meaningful at John's leg but said nothing. The past few weeks walking had become increasingly painful for John, despite Bruce's workouts. Walking with a limp is hard enough but limping through a crowd is hell, although John would never admit that to Bruce, or anyone else.

"Church's almost empty." John stood up and thought for a moment that his leg would give out under him but found Bruce's strong supporting hands helping him up. "Prepare for some serious physical therapy tonight."

"We'll see about that," said John. "Just let's go before Purdy..."

"John!" the reverend walked up to Bruce and Johnny, hand outstretched. "Too late," said Bruce.

"So good of you to come. I hope you enjoyed the sermon."

Johnny faked a smile. "It was very...moralized."

"Well, that's my job. Disseminate the gospel. Keep up moral standards."

"Yeah," said Bruce "I especially liked that part about Luke 15, the lost son."

Purdy looked surprised.

"I didn't now you were a biblical man, Mr. Lewis"

"Only on occasion" the younger man replied.

"Well, if I may invite you both for a drink, then…"

"Reverend" said a soft but carrying voice.

The young woman with the high voice stood behind them. She had her hands protectively folded together in front of her and looked shyly at the threesome.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I wondered if I could have a word with you, Reverend. If this is not an inconvenient time that is." She spoke with a slight European accent.

"Of course, excuse me gentlemen. I don't believe I have had the pleasure to meet you before Miss…"

"In a way you have met me before, Reverend, but that was a long time ago. My name is Ruth Davids." She extended her hand.

Gene hesitated and John saw how the blood drained from his face at hearing her name.

"Gene, you're okay?"

"Yes, yes I am. Thank you. This is just very… Miss Davids." Finally he took her hand, completely covering her slender white hand with his'. "So nice to meet you, again." Miss Davids' eyes brightened at this sign of recognition, clearly showing her two different coloured eyes. Purdy looked nervously at Johnny. "Could we take a rain check on that drink gentlemen?" Johnny gave Purdy full marks for keeping his composure. "Sure, no problem."

"Miss Davids, if you would walk with me, please."

She nodded but turned to Bruce and John before following the reverend. "I believe you lost this during the service." She stretched out her hand and placed the silver dollar in John's hand palm. Her fingertips felt cold and for a second John's skin tingled as if the young woman was conducting electricity. She looked at him, her eyes widened again, but this time as if she saw something she couldn't quite believe. Before John could say something a vision struck.

_He was in a chamber. High windows, with bars. White walls, soft walls. A bed with restrains in the right hand corner. He recognized this place. The same woman, Ruth Davids. Sitting on her knees with both her hands on the wall in front of her. Light from the high windows fell on her white face. Tear marks. Crying, she was crying. Through her tears she was singing. A song in a language he didn't understand but he had heard the melody before. Why was this place familiar to him? _

"Nice to have met you to." Bruce's voice brought him back to the chapel. Purdy and Miss Davids already were already walking to Gene's office.

"What did you see John."

"I do not know, or to be more accurate: I do not understand."

Bruce placed a hand on John's shoulder. "Let's get you home and I shall see what I can do about that leg of yours."

John nodded and limped over the aisle towards the exit. At the door he looked over his shoulder and saw how the young woman briefly massaged the back of her leg.


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth Davids opened her copy of _To the Lighthouse _and started to read.

"He was not 'in love' of course;" the story of Mrs. Ramsey continued, "it was one of those unclassified affections of which there were so many. Oh, but nonsense she thought; William must marry Lily. They have so many things in common. They are both cold and aloof and rather self-sufficing. She must arrange for them to take a long walk together. (Virginia Woolf)."

Ruth looked up to see if anything had changed at the mansion at the opposite side of the street. She had positioned herself in such a way that she had a clear view of the house while at the same time being well hidden for the inhabitants of the, to her ridiculous, large house. Well, inhabitant actually, which made it even more preposterous. S. Smith, the plaque at the gate had said. Funny name, even to her as a foreigner. No, nothing happened, all quiet, for the time being.

She looked at her book again. God, so many times she read this book and so many times she loathed and loved the leading character: Mrs. Ramsey. The undisputable matriarch. A meddlesome yet isolated woman. Unable to understand the mind of some one else. How she envied the ignorance of this woman for other peoples feeling, seeing the world in black and white, never the shades of grey in between. Often she wished she could block herself, her own perception, like Mrs. Ramsey, and only live inside her own head, like everyone else. And how she longed for the confirmation that Mrs. Ramsey got of her own identity through her social and familial position. Family, a strange and empty word to Ruth Davids.

Heavy footsteps. Just as she expected. Gene Purdy came up to the house. Her eyes darkened as she thought about their conversation yesterday. "You can't get rid of me that easily Purdy. Why are you protecting this Mr. Smith?"

"Gene, come in."

John took back a step without using his cane for support to let the reverend in and instantly wish he hadn't. He grabbed the doorpost to steady himself, and Gene, without thinking grabbed John's elbow.

_"I'm sorry I can't tell you more Miss Davids."_

_He was in Gene's office. Gene pouring something to drink while Ruth Davids sat at his desk watching pictures of what seemed like a car crash. _

"_I see. But, there are a few things I do not understand, Reverend." _

"_Tell me, Miss Davids" said Purdy who had returned to his big chair behind the office. The leather creaked under his weight. Miss Davids smiled. A smile that did not reach her eyes. _

"_I visited an asylum, not far from here." A brief Silence hang over them like a thunderstorm. Purdy shifted uneasily in his chair. "I think, no, I know, Reverend, that you are not telling me everything." Purdy suddenly stood up. "Miss Davids, I'm very sorry for your loss, but I told you everything I know and I assure you that's what happened. The alliance has done everything for you humanly possible and.. " _

"_Oh yes, very humane indeed" Ruth said sarcastically._

"_Ï do not wish be questioned in my own office Miss Davids. If you would please leave." He walked to the door to hold it open for her. While his back was turned Miss Davids took a letter from his desk. Before it disappeared between the pictures and under her coat John saw that his own address was written on the envelope._

"John, you look awful, you know that?"

He breathed deep and focused on the Reverend standing in his doorstep, still supporting him.

"Leg bothering you again?"

John shrugged. "It could have been worse. I'll live."

Gene looked as if he seriously doubted that.

"Come on in Gene."

"No, thank you, I just came by the apologize for yesterday. I finally get you to attend one of my services and then I don't even have time for you. I'm so sorry."

"Forget it. By the way, who was that girl Gene?"

Purdy's smile remained bravely on his lips but the rest of his face pulled away from it.

"Why, did you have a vision of her?"

"No" said John averting eye contact. One of these days, John thought, he just had to learn how to lie. Without it showing up in his face in Neon letters. "Just common interest."

Purdy relaxed.

"Well, quite sad actually. She was, is, a daughter of two of our parish members. They both died some twenty-five years ago, when she was still an infant. A car crash. Not far from the place where you…well. Anyway, lacking any family the alliance took care of the child after her parents' death. Made she sure she got adopted. Got a good home."

"And now she is back to find her roots? That's it?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Poor woman" technically he himself was an orphan, but losing your parents at such a young age, not knowing who you really are, he couldn't begin to imagine how that must feel.

"But, the accent?"

"Yes, well, her adoptive parents migrated to Europe not long after her adoption. I really have to be going, John." Enough of my questions? Johnny thought, but left it unspoken.

"So, once again my apologies Johnny, and please, take care of yourself, you really look awful."

John closed the door behind Purdy and thought about the young woman. He shook his head trying to get the image of her sad smile out of his mind. He'd better put on his sweat suit. Bruce could be here any minute now and John was sure he would give him hell.

The backdoor was locked. The front door heavily secured by cameras and all the windows barred shut. "Great," Ruth said to herself "a hermit." She considered ringing the doorbell but quickly rejected the idea. What was she to say? "Hi, we saw each other at church yesterday. I know you don't know me, but I know that Reverend Purdy is protecting you from me. No don't' ask me how I know, I just do. Let's just say that I am not what you might call ""normal." " Not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea. Another window. Also shut. She gave it a frustrated pull and almost screamed when a hand fell on her shoulder. "Miss Davids? From church, yes? I'll be damned. And you looked like such a shy, well behaved young lady. If you would come with me please, then we can call the police. I believe this is called trespassing, isn't it?" said Bruce.


	3. Chapter 3

Note for Dead Zone fans: I took the liberty to change the timeline a little. It does not affect this chapter but it will be important in the following ones. Please, do not be angry about it. It is all in benefit of the story.

"John!"

"Bruce, my man," echoed John's voice from the kitchen. "You're late." Not that John really regretted that. Normally he greatly appreciated the younger man's company, but now when Bruce was late that meant less time for therapy, which John welcomed.

"John, look what the cat dragged in. Or better, who."

"What?" Johnny turned and saw the answer of his question standing in the doorway. The young soprano from church. She stood in front of Bruce. She wore an off the shoulder dress which pronounced her collarbones. Bruce hands were clasped around her slender shoulders. He pushed her in. Gentle but firm. His face was filled with anger, and hers mirrored it. Not at all like the kind face he met at church.

"Found her snooping around the house. You'd better call Walt."

John sat down and looked at the girl. What a coincidence, he thought. First Purdy not wanting me to ask questions about this girl because it upsets him, and now she is here, appearing on my doorstep. How intriguing.

"Miss Davids, you just missed the Reverend. Mind telling us why you are here?"

"And what did the good reverend have to say?" she said ignoring John's question. He noticed the sarcasm in her voice. Totally unlike the shy, soft voice she had spoken with yesterday. The inflection reminded him of Bruce, and also the way she crossed her arms. He did not answer but searched her eyes. Blue and green and fierce. But behind the fierceness a sadness he thought he understood now. He thought about Purdy's story and despite the fact that she was trespassing on his property he felt compassion for her. So young, so alone. In the silent seconds she read his eyes and realization dawned, and she didn't like it. "He told you about me, didn't he. Why I was at the chapel." The words flashed through her mind and reached her mouth before she could bite them back. Damn it, she thought. Normally I'm more careful with my words, this isn't me. She looked at the hands on her shoulders and understood. I though he looked like someone who wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Yes, he told me. I 'm sorry."

"Spare me your sympathy." She looked at the ground, her lips quivered lightly as if trying not to cry. "Anyway, it is not a secret. "

"Can someone fill me in on this conversation," Bruce said, still holding Ruth by her shoulders. Neither Johnny nor Ruth showed intention tot elucidate.

"Well?"

"Miss Davids was at the chapel to find more out about the parents," said John when Ruth remained silent. "They died some years ago."

"Yeah, that's a real sad story." Said Bruce uncharacteristically nasty. "But that doesn't explain why Miss Davids is here. Checking the windows and not, I might say, to admire the woodwork." Johnny looked in surprised at the younger man. This outburst was unlike him. Anger and concern both fought for a place on Bruce's face. "Do I have to remember you about another young lady, not that long ago. A nice homemade seafood dinner that ended in a nice homemade kidnapping?" Ah, thought John, that's what bothering him. He was touched.

Ruth looked up at Bruce, straining her neck.

"Do I look like a kidnapper?" she said evenly agitated as Bruce.

"You might. Mr. Smith is kind of a celebrity around here."

"Yeah, yeah I know." She waved here hand irritably. "Visions and all. The local psychic. I've read about it." John looked at her. There was no surprise, no suspicion, no morbid interest or disbelief in her eyes, which normally was the case when his abilities were first mentioned. She just accepted it as a fact as one accepts that all men have two eyes, a nose and a mouth, usually.

"That's not why I am here."  
"Then why are you here?"

"Several reasons, the first one being this." She took some photos out her purse. "Purdy gave me these." She wanted to hand them to John but Bruce snatched them away.

"John, look at this."  
Bruce handed the photos to Johnny who stared at it, a long time.  
"Purdy gave you these?' he whispered without taking his eyes of the pictures. She nodded  
"These pictures are..."  
"Pictures form your car accident, I know. I did some research at the library. Searching in newspapers. You were front-page news for two days straight did you know that? Very dramatic. Young, talented high school teacher in terrible car crash. Pictures and all."  
"Why would Purdy give you pictures of Johnny's car crash," said Bruce.  
She smiled. "This is were it gets interesting. He told me that it are pictures of my parents car crash."

They looked at one another. John sat down. His leg was aching and he felt a headache coming up.

"Why would he do that," said Bruce while he let go off he shoulders. The same moment Ruth's face softened. She looked again like the shy girl John had seen in church. She rubbed her temples.

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Please do."

He gave her back the pictures and the kitchen disappeared.

_ It was night. He stood in the corner of a small room. A large window through which the crescent moon shone on a table in the center of the room. A woman at he table was nursing a baby, singing a song to it. The same melody he had heard Miss Davids sing. The baby cried. On the table several needles and saucer with a dark fluid. John came closer a saw that the baby's right shoulder was bare and red inflamed and had some strange dark streaks over it. The woman, still singing, put the baby on the table, face down. She took a needle, put it in the dark fluid, and she stuck it in the child's inflamed shoulder. And again, and again, and again. John realized in horror what those dark streaks were. "My God she is tattooing the baby." Time accelerated and while he watched and the baby, cried, the tattoo grew. The door flew open before the woman had finished. In the door way stood a twenty years younger reverend Purdy. John looked at the baby and read the first part of the tattoo. _

"Kings 3: 16-28…"

He was back in the kitchen. Bruce and Ruth sitting in front of him. The latter suddenly very pale, just like himself.

"What?" said Bruce. "Did you have a vision? What did you see?"

John looked at disbelief at Ruth, still disgusted by his vision.

"I think I know what you saw."

She turned their back towards them and pulled her dress a little down and uncovered her right shoulder.

It was a bit stretched because of growth, and blurred by time but it was still there. A tattoo blue letters: Kings 3: 16-28. Herb Sm

To be continued

Thank you all for reading...


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